Whispered Sweet Nothings
by TenTenD
Summary: The royal court has many intricate rules, and even more secrets that should never see the light of day. Sometimes not everything goes according to plan and appearances must be kept at all costs. Thrown in a realm of intrigues, Adele de Béthune must find a way to protect herself in an unforgiving world. And perhaps she'll find something more with the help of the Musketeers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All the recognizable characters, places and events do not belong to me.

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Adele de Béthune stared straight ahead, not daring to move a muscle. It would not do to disturb the painter, she reminded herself morosely. Why? Oh, why wasn't she Adrianne's age so she could pleasantly avoid this? Adele fervently pondered the question. She half-listened to what the artist was telling her and tried to arrange herself according to his instructions. The meager smile on her face almost slipped in irritation. It was by sheer force of will that she managed to keep it on her face; else Maman would be sure to chide her. Being a lady, proper or otherwise, was no easy job.

"Maman, why must we have this painting commissioned?" the young girl asked, in hopes of convincing her mother to reconsider the fate that awaited her daughter.

Rachel smiled at her child, her face remaining relaxed throughout her entire speech. "Because my dear daughter, my sweet Adele, Louis, His Most Christian Majesty, wishes you to be a companion to his wife, the lovely Anne. Do not scowl. It is a great opportunity for you. For us. Many eyes will watch you; not only because you'll be the Queen's companion, but because the King himself requested your presence. Strive to keep the intrigues away from you, however, do not let them walk all over you. Remember, you are my daughter. You father's daughter too. If only he were still alive, the Duke. May he rest in peace."

Born to Maximilien de Béthune, the Duke of Sully and his second wife, Rachel, Adele was the youngest child of nine, and one of the five to survive infancy. Her brothers and one sister had married before she was even born and then there was Louisa still unmarried and herself, the youngest. She was still in mourning for her father, who had left them not five months ago. Still, her mother had seen fit to accept the King's invitation for her daughter to act as a lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Adele was all of eighteen years of age and quite unsure how to fill the shoes put out before her.

Besides the decidedly honourable name of her father, Adele was one of the very distant cousins of the King himself. It was the reason for which her standing was a high one even though she was one of the later children of the couple and would not inherit very much in comparison to older brothers and sisters. Even so, she would be a full-fledged Vicomtesse after her mother's death. It was no small thing and many would seek to forge an alliance with such a title.

It was nothing out of ordinary for the King to sometimes call a relative or another for a visit. Louisa had been called too a few years back and to this day she talked fondly of her visits to the palace. Adele had the distinct feeling that her visit would be a little bit longer and far more exciting than she would've wanted it. Oh, why could she not stay at home with Maman? She had no head for intrigues and was a very poor liar. And she'd have to leave everyone behind.

"But Maman, this is hardly what I wish for. What of Paul and Henrietta, my friends, and the mourning? Please do not send me away. I promise to help. I won't stand in your way, nor will I complain. But please, do not make me go. What need could the Queen have of me?"

"Even if I wanted to, refusing the invitation would be beyond rude. And the Queen needs you. She is a woman who has left everything she's ever known behind. She is alone, daughter," Rachel cajoled softly. "You can be her friend. Teach her our ways. Help her adapt. Hmm?"

The younger woman's head dropped. "I understand, mother." There was nothing else she could say. If the King had asked, of course he was not to be refused. That would only cause problems, and Adele had long since decided that her family would not suffer any embarrassment from her. "You are, as always, right." A small smile slid on her lips as she nodded her head, and turned back to the painter who was calling her attention.

After her the portrait had already been set on its way, Adele was sent straight to the palace, her trunks following in a carriage all of their own. Whatever she had been expecting, Adele was quite taken by surprise when Louis called her to a private study though one of the valets. The King stood behind his desk, ordering the girl to come nearer. She kept her eyes to the floor for a short moment, before she raised them to appraise Louis. He himself regarded her with open interest.

"Your Majesty," Adele greeted softly, a wisp of hair falling in her face, "how do you do?" She curtsied slowly without passion.

"Cousin," he replied uncertainly in acknowledgment. "I am well, as you can see. To tell you the truth, I am exceedingly glad for your speedy arrival."

"Is her Majesty in such dire need of companions?" The question had been an impertinent one, but rightfully so. How dare this man take her away from everything she'd ever known and force her to act a friend to his wife. "I daresay it is indeed fortunate then that I was never one to dawdle."

"I lied," he said quickly. Louis' back straightened. The admission almost made him choke, but he could not continue to deceive her, not when he required her help.

"Men always do," was the dispassionate answer to leave her lips. "I suppose you might tell me your reason. I am all agog to hear it."

"Had I not needed your help, you would be begging me for mercy now." The King sat down. "My Queen, Anne, has been acting strange lately; actually she's been acting like this for quite some time."

"You want me to spy on her?" Adele's eyebrow rose in half-concern, half-amusement. "Surely someone other could have done that. I have stayed away from court even before papa's death."

"I want something else too," Louis continued as if he hadn't heard her. "If there is someone else, stir him away from my wife."

"I wouldn't even know where to being in such an endeavour," Adele protested softly. "I am far less worldly than you think me. I hope this ends in a satisfactory manner. And if I am not to be the Queen's companion, what will my position be exactly?"

"I will think of something," Louis assured her. "Now go to your rooms and prepare for the ball. I would hate for you to miss it."

The ball was a perfect moment for her to step into play. Ironically enough, it was also at a ball that she had the pleasure of first meeting Louis. Five years his junior, Adele had been forced upon him by the rigour of protocol. He had been eighteen and she barely thirteen. Alas he'd been bored as she proved to be a pleasant conversation. At that time he'd just entered a genuine relationship with his wife and, for whatever reason, sought out the view of an innocent of his actions. Since that time they had conducted a correspondence, which was him writing her whenever it suited him to do so.

That had not made Adele feel neglected, of course. He was the King. It would be ridiculous of her to complain of the infrequent lines he wrote to her. They had come to a sort of understanding. Whenever he needed her, she'd answer with appropriate haste and then wait for the next letter. It had always been like that between them, and Adele was pleased with how things were. She'd never wanted to live at court. The schemes and petty conflicts made her stomach churn.

And now here she was. Fate had a funny way of leaving one without breath when it so chose. She'd left home as simply Adele, and now she'd assume her always know, but rarely acknowledged role of Vicomtesse de St. Lusien.

The sound of something crashing captured her attention. Adele dismissed the maid dressing her hair and started for the door. She hesitated just for a moment. Acting before she could change her mind, she strode to the door and hurled it open. A maid carrying sheets stopped and gave Adele a curious look. For her part Adele eyed the maid warily. There was something not quite right about her.

"Come here a moment," Adele called, beckoning the other woman over. "Could you tell me how to get the main ballroom? I seem to have forgotten." Better to hear her voice and be able to place her another time.

The maid nodded rapidly. "Of course, Madame. You take this corridor here and then turn to the left. After that walk straight ahead. You can't miss it, Madame."

Nodding her head, Adele passed the woman and ambled down the hall. And indeed, she found herself not a minute later, at her destination. After all these years it was still the same. Adele took a deep breath and made her entrance. A few curious stares were thrown her way and acquaintances approached to offer salutations. The King was presiding over the affair from his throne, seated next to his Queen. The sour look on his face almost made Adele cringe and she could not help but notice that the Queen's eyes displayed marks of crying.

"Adele, my dear!" Anne Marie d'Aligre caught Adele's hands in hers. "It has been an eternity," she continued, pressing her cheek to Adele's. "What brings you here?"

"Why, the ball!" Adele replied as if that had been the most natural response ever. "I quite missed Paris, and Maman saw fit to accept His Majesty's invitation on my behalf."

Anne Marie's smile faltered for a moment. "Is that so? The King himself called you?" She looked ready to burst. "Do you fancy a walk about the gardens?"

"Anne Marie, is it such a serious situation?"Adele could not help asking as they neared the rose bushes. It was very unusual for d'Aligre to be so agitated.

"I am telling you this because I consider you my friend. Whatever I say to you, keep it between us," Anne Marie insisted. "The Duchess of Chevreuse has been was banished from court when the Queen lost yet another child. I think she plans to get revenge."

"By what method?" Adele leaned in, her fan beating the air rhythmically. "Does she perhaps intend to bring a lover for our Queen?"

"She encourages it," Anne Marie confirmed with a nod. "Have you ever met the Duke of Buckingham? Were you here to see the English ambassador?"

Silence lingered between the women. Adele thought back, trying to recount a face to put next to the title Anne Marie mentioned. "Is he perhaps named Villiers?"

"Have you met him?" Shock registered on her face. Anne Marie dared a small smile. "A woman would have to be blind not to notice his charm."

George Villiers, styled the Duke of Buckingham, was no less than a Greek statue brought to life. He was Apollo at another age. Adele had seen him perhaps a couple of times, but never face to face and not very close. Her visits to Paris were few, for the city held little of interest to her. But of course she'd heard talk of the Duke. Curiosity got the best of her and she sought to see him. Indeed, he was as fine a specimen as they whispered. Not that it held more than just one moment's interest on Adele's part.

"No, I can't say I have." Adele smiled back at Anne Marie. "But be sure to point him out to me the next this chance presents itself."

D'Aligre cocked her head to the side. "Don't forget that the one you help is a King, and however well-intentioned you are, he is human. The blame may be thrust upon you shoulders at his convenience."

Wise words, Adele considered. "Thank you. I plan only to give the desired appearance and nothing else." After all, her life was the most important thing she owned. "I grow weary of this atmosphere. What do you recommend I do?"

"I say we indulge in some theatre." They both giggled at the notion. "Though we'll have to change out of these."

"I daresay I shall live," Adele offered artlessly. "But you will have to lead the way. I confess to remembering nothing of Paris except its unique aroma."

"Forever the diplomat," Anne Marie joked lightly. "I see you leave me no choice. Fine then, to the theatre we go."

Paris had many charms. Amongst them the theatres had a special place, at least Adele thought so. Others seemed to prefer the many hovels where they could drink their fill. That and have a peek at women's ill-concealed cleavages. However Adele would not bother herself with such uncouth people. Instead she'd enjoy a nice comedy.

Suddenly, her eyes saw someone she recognised. "Anne Marie, isn't that the wash-maid?" It was unmistakable. There a few feet away stood the woman who had given her directions, the same dark-haired maid. She looked as if she was in a hurry, and acted too careful. "Let's follow her!" Adele decided just as the maid disappeared in a side-alley.

"I'm sure we shouldn't," Anne Marie commented softly. "But then again, that has never stopped any of us before."

Chasing a shadow, they made their way through the streets trying to keep close to the woman. If anything, Adele reckoned it was great exercise, to keep fit. Even more considering the one they followed was a swift walker. Fate, however, seemed to have other plans for the ladies that night.

Just as they were passing a house of ill repute, two men happened upon them, and they knew Anne Marie. To Adele it was a shock that a lady such as her friend would associate with vagabonds and the likes. For surely, they were vagrants. One could tell by looking at them. Rumpled clothes and hair in a disarray, they had stepped out of the brothel, all relaxed and seemingly pleased with themselves.

"Madame!" greeted the sturdiest of the two. "What a surprise it is to see you. What brings you out this late in the evening?"

"Monsieur Porthos, a surprise indeed," Anne Marie replied. "And I see you have your friend with you. How do you do? We were taking as stroll, my companion and I." She turned to Adele and winked subtly. "Allow me to introduce Adele to you gentlemen."

Caught in a rather bizarre situation, Adele executed a small curtsy and murmured her supposed pleasure at having met them. Discreetly she questioned Anne Marie with her gaze. The other simply smiled and Adele felt the acute need to intervene. "Are we still heading for the theatre?" But from the stares that went between monsieur Porthos and her friend, Adele guessed that they weren't. She sighed at the turn of events.

"Then please consent to being introduced to my friend here, Athos." It went unsaid that Adele would not get an answer to her question. "Let us stroll about together then, my ladies."

Athos offered Adele his arm. Taking the proffered limb, she also analysed her partner. There was something statuesque about him. He was not the handsomest man, but he possessed the sort of virility not many could brag about. What Adele noticed was that she couldn't quite place his age. He was no youth but neither was he old. The most startling, she found, were his eyes. His stare burned right through her; a dark gaze that could see to the depths of her soul. She knew instantly that he was a dangerous man.

Self-preservation instincts kicked in and Adele pasted a pretty smile on her lips. Men were always flattered when women smiled their way. "How do you do, Monsieur Athos?"

"I suspect not a great deal different from a few seconds ago, but certainly much improved than, say, a couple of hours ago," Athos bequeathed. His lips stayed in a taut line even when his eyes shone with amusement. "Have young ladies lost their edge? Oh dear, I shall miss the scintillating conversation, I must admit."

"Would it have been more appropriate to ask after your degree of satisfaction with," Adele paused to make a gesture, supposedly referring to the establishment the men had exited, "female company? To put it delicately."

"You needn't hold back on my account," Athos assured her. "You may use the proper term for them, my dear, they deserve nothing better."

"What a cynical man," Adele observed with little inflection. "You do not have much admiration for my gender. Don't deny it; I see it in your eyes."

"What else do you see?" he felt compelled to ask, helping her navigate through the busy streets they'd just entered.

"It's far too early to make such assessments." Ever so gently, Adele turned her head to scan the crow, in hopes of finding the maid they'd lost track of. "Where are we heading?"

There was no reply to be had. Athos shrugged and led her after Porthos and his dame. Those two looked to be having a jolly time. "Porthos seems quite taken with your friend."

"If I were a man," Adele drawled charmingly, "I'd probably be taken with her too. As it is, I find her company most desirable. But I am sure men find women fascinating for a thousand other reasons that I could possibly come up with to enjoy their company."

"And most of those reasons are rather poor," he claimed. "Then again, most men are fools, and most women know exactly know to use that to their advantage."

"Do they now? 'Tis a sad world we live in." Adele pondered his statement awhile longer. "If we ever meet again, I might like to know you better."

"Bored with your husband and merry lot?" Such a flagrant accusation. Athos almost regretted saying it at the look on the woman's face. However he was no man to be swayed by a pretty face, no longer anyway.

"I do believe that was uncalled for. I am neither married nor seeking any sort of further acquaintance with you for the sake of anything else but a pleasant talk." It had stung her pride, Adele conceded.

"You'll find I'm not a very pleasant man," Athos answered curtly. There was no need to be anything else but, given his earlier blunder.

"I'd gathered," she said dryly. "Perhaps another time we might come to an understanding." She nodded jerkily, unwilling to regale him with a show of her distress. No one had talked to her quite like that and she was nowhere near ready to appear weak in front of a stranger.

"I find it hard to believe your words," Athos furthered to ease the tense silence that had settled between them.

"About coming to an understanding?" Adele would have liked nothing more than to slap the arrogance out of the man. "Maybe you are right."

"I meant abut you being unmarried," he clarified with an amused smile.

"You doubt my words?" A violent blush flooded her face.

"Naturally." Athos did not feel the need to elaborate any further. He rather liked watching her squirm.

"Unbelievable," Adele hissed, her eyes lighting up in anger. "And here I thought the King's Musketeers were gallant, at least."

"You were sadly mistaken, Madame," Athos informed her with a serious vein. "We are no better than most men, regardless of the fact that we do offer help to those who ask it."

An idea sprung to life in Adele's head as she heard him talk. "Help, you say? What kind of help would that be?"

"The kind that is needed," he answered, trying to gauge her reason for asking.

"Where would one find you in case need arises?" Adele decided she wouldn't give anything away yet.

"Monsieur de Tréville would be most able to offer an answer," Athos supplied cautiously.

Having had her fill of questioning the man, Adele nodded once, and turned her eyes to the road. Of course, Monsieur de Tréville would know at any time where his Musketeers were. She'd not expected any differently. It was very well that she had found this unexpected help. "And if one day I shall require your help, would you consent to give it?"

"Certainly, you only need to ask." His confirmation came quickly. Athos, however, had a certain feeling that things were more complicated than they seemed; as they very often proved to be. Just what he needed, Athos thought. And this woman was sure to make it impossible to refuse. For certainly Porthos would insist they help and Aramis even more so. She was, after all, a lady and they were never to be neglected. Better to keep an eye on her than risk dealing with situations more grievous. For all he knew they were simply to fetch a few misplaced letters, or so.

Any further comment of her part was cut short as Anne Marie's strides came to a halt. "We ought to get back. Our presence will be missed."

"Sorely," Adele added for effect. She detangled her hand from Athos'. "Thank you gentlemen for a lovely evening."

The two men simply bowed in response. Adele took her companion's elbow and pulled her along. They had been delaying their return for much too long. Someone was bound to remark upon their absence. As things were, Adele had no need of scandal thrown her way.

Once they were a safe distance away, Adele heaved a sigh. "What were you thinking? Who are those men?"

"The King's Musketeers," Anne Marie replied as if Adele was rather dim for not noticing. "Really, Adele, pay more attention."

"That was not what I meant," she objected. "What are you doing acting so friendly with an unknown man?"

"Porthos is hardly unknown to me." She took in Adele's shocked face silently. "Gerard is not exactly what I thought he'd be. Can you fault me?"

Realisation made Adele blanch. "You meant to say that you," she pointed to Anne Marie, "and Monsieur Porthos, are, well," her hand gestured wildly yet her lips formed no words.

"It's not that simple, Adele, and not everyone is strong enough to live a moral life. I'm not like you." Anne Marie slipped her hand in Adele's. "I wish I had that kind of capacity."

"I'm not blaming you. Please, don't think I am," Adele half-begged. "It just took me by surprise." And it also made her feel slightly sick. "Let's hurry."

"Adele!" Anne Marie tried to keep her still. "You have to understand."

"You don't need my approval," Adele stated.

"I want it all the same," the other woman averred.

"Does he make you happy?" Calling it morbid curiosity, Adele could almost stomach the thought.

"Yes," Anne Marie admitted after a moment of hesitation. "He makes me very happy."

"Consider my approval granted," Adele whispered stonily. "Just don't speak of it again to me."

Threading carefully, Adele made no further mention of Musketeers. It was hardly the opportune moment to share any of her plans. No, she'd take care of everything on her very own. After all, Louis trusted her to keep his secret. Getting back to the party was a tricky little endeavour but, given the circumstances, Adele thought they pulled it off admirably. Admirably indeed, she concluded upon seeing Louis moving her way.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his gloved hand resting in mid-air.

Gingerly taking hold of his hand, she brushed her lips to the material of the glove. "I felt that a stroll about the garden was just the thing I needed after my tiresome journey."

"Dance with me," he commanded, blatantly ignoring the Queen at his side.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Adele let herself follow him to the dance floor. One hand touched his shoulder and the other was imprisoned in his. She felt one of his hands touch her waist. "Would it not have been better to dance with your wife?"

"My wife has made it abundantly clear that she has no desire to dance with me." The remorse in his words cut her deeply.

"And you're trying to get revenge through me?" Disbelief tinged her voice. Adele sighed once more. "Perhaps another approach would be in order."

"I am in no mood to indulge you now, cousin," Louis hissed, twirling her forcefully. "In fact, I wish to her no words from you until the dance is finished."

In that moment Adele decided to keep her peace. There was no reason for which to pester him. Knowing Louis he'd not appreciate it and she would be rebuffed. Why had she agreed to come to court, Adele wondered, as she was spun around the floor, her skirts swaying with her. There was nothing for her there; only headaches if she counted those. But she'd rather not, truth be told. If anything, Adele would gladly pack her bags and head back to her mother. Alas, she'd not get the chance. Especially if things did not change for the better in the near future.

From the corner of her eye, she spied the young Queen. Anne's face showed no emotion but something in her eyes made Adele want to be swallowed by the floor. Most likely the Queen thought her husband had set his sights on her, and for any woman that would be hurtful. More so for a woman of the Queen's renown beauty. Furthermore, Adele had gone and accepted the invitation like she had expected it. She was being used and did nothing to stop it. A curse formed on her lips but she bit it back at the last possible moment.

The strings of the violins played one last note and the crowd on the floor dissipated. Adele used the opportunity to express her disagreement with what Louis had done. "You used me to humiliate her. How could you?"

"The same way she can have a lover behind my back," the King returned brusquely. "Besides, I did nothing but dance with a willing partner when my own wife would not deign to join me." He showed no signs of having calmed down. "She could at least have the decency to dance once with her husband."

"Invite her again," Adele suggested, trying to loosen his grip on her arm. "The worst she can do is refuse."

"If she does, I don't trust myself to be in the same room with her," he managed to get out as they moved towards Queen Anne. "My dear," Louis started, "would you do me the honour of dancing with me?"

"But of course," the Queen agreed softly, triumph burning in her stare as she fixed Adele with a chilling look. "I am delighted."

"Thank the Lord," Adele muttered under her breath as the royal couple departed. She was well-aware that a good part of the aristocrats were looking at her as well. Ignoring them she spotted an empty settee. Her legs hurt and she'd like nothing more but to sit down and spend what remained of her night in relative peace.

Peace, however, would have to wait. Mademoiselle de La Fayette was coming her way, a distinctly amiable smile on her face. "Adele, it has been too long."

"Far too long," Adele agreed, rising to greet the other woman. "Sit with me if you do not find it too boring an affair."

"Not at all," Mademoiselle de La Fayette said, taking her place next to Adele. "I saw you dancing with the King just now."

"That is nothing to boast about. Half the court saw it too, Louise," Adele countered warmly.

Tittering left Mademoiselle de La Fayette. "I see. Silly of me to think otherwise."

"Silly, indeed." Adele leaned closer to her partner. "Aren't you one of our Queen's ladies-in-waiting?"

"That happens to be true." Louise eyed the Queen dancing with her husband. "They look well together, don't they?"

"They make a handsome pair," Adele concurred. "May they always get along and prosper."

Louise stared at her for a long moment. "I am glad you think so. Perhaps you would agree to help me then."

"In what way?" Curiosity made her skin tingle. "Come now, you have my attention, Louise."

"Merely by dropping hits from time to time to our King," Louise explained. "You only need to remind him that he should give some attention to our Queen."

It all sounded very reasonable but Adele could not shake off the feeling that she was being tested. "The Queen too should actively encourage the King's pursuit."

"Has he told you something?" Louise asked, suddenly not very calm.

"Not really," Adele evaded the question. She blinked at the look on Louise's face. "I will share with you whatever knowledge I gather."

As a promise it was not much. Adele hadn't intended to give even that but circumstances left her with no alternative. Louise had almost accused her of trying to create a rift between the royal couple. Adele could not let her think that she even dreamed of doing such a dreadful thing. It was inconceivable. Utterly preposterous, Adele decided not a beat later. She wished Louis and Anne only happiness. If nothing else, she wanted her cousin to be comfortable with his wife.

"Please do so." Louise waved to a Comte they both knew. The man approached the ladies with a grin on his face.

Her face colour dropped a few shades as she was faced with Gerard d'Aligre, Comte de Nice. He bent to kiss their hands and Adele felt her stomach revolt. How could see stand before him knowing what she knew. Swallowing the dread, she greeted him composedly. They exchanged a few polite lines to pass the time. Adele tried to keep herself from showing any pity. If the man did not know of his wife's infidelity, Adele would not enlighten him.

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_**A/N: I hope you've enjoyed the start of it.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Monsieur de Tréville regarded the young woman before him with caution. She looked back at him with an expression that mirrored his own. Her diminutive height compared to the man's larger frame made the scene almost comical. Only the cold atmosphere corrected the first impression, setting a more appropriate outlook to the ongoing meeting.

Adele smiled sweetly at Monsieur de Tréville. "Surely I cannot thank you enough for your help, Monsieur. You see, this ring has been passed down into my family and it contains an inscription of much importance."

"Mademoiselle, you need not thank me," de Tréville assured her. "It is my utmost pleasure to be of service."

"Would it be possible to meet these Musketeers of yours who will handle my little problem?" She did have to make sure that Athos was amongst them.

"But of course you may," Monsieur de Tréville answered, making for the door. He opened it and called to a boy waiting in the hall. "Get me the Inseparables. Be quick about it." He turned back to Adele. "You might have to wait a few moments, Mademoiselle. I apologise for the inconvenience."

"Not at all," Adele declared pleasantly. "I am perfectly content waiting for them to arrive. After all, it is me who is asking for help, causing difficulty for you and your subordinates. Please, there is no need for an apology."

Waiting had always proved to be a challenge for Adele. She was not someone people would describe as patient. Not at all. In fact she tended to get excited over the smallest things. In such situations wringing her hands or tapping one of her feet was a normal occurrence. As it happened she was rather animated by the thought of seeing Athos again, if only to come up with a plan. Was it wise of her, she wondered idly, to entrust such a task upon people she barely knew? Perhaps not, but it was worth a try as far as she was concerned.

Three men entered the room. Two of them were known to Adele. One was Porthos, the other Athos. The third she'd never seen before. A shade curious, she rose from her chair and observed the unknown man. He looked very much like a certain Duke she'd seen. Indeed, they seemed alike; perhaps this man was younger, his face more feminine. Of course the slight beard and moustache made it impossible for anyone to confuse him with a woman. Adele curtsied, her eyes moving to Athos and Porthos. She didn't trust herself to linger too long, lest her heart did more than hammer in her chest.

"Bonjour, Messieurs," she greeted them in a cheery voice. "Monsieur Pothos. Monsieur Athos, I hope you've not forgotten me."

"My memory is not so short," Athos quipped. There was no malice in his words and Adele even believed she saw him smile as he said it.

"It seems I have suffered in vain to the thought you mightn't remember me." She laughed softly. "And you, Monsieur?" she asked, gesturing towards the man.

"Aramis, at your service." He bowed in a flowing elegant move.

"You three!" de Tréville called their attention. "This Mademoiselle here has need of your help. For reasons of her own she wishes to discuss the details only with you. Will half an hour suffice, my Lady?'

"Amply," Adele consented. "Thank you once again."

Once de Tréville was out, Athos stepped closer to her. "I wouldn't have thought I'd see you again."

"I wouldn't have come if not for the circumstances which pushed me to act thus," she explained, fanning herself slowly.

"Am I to understand this is not a social call?" Porthos threw in. He looked disappointed when Adele shook her head in a negative answer. "A pity."

"Can you keep a secret?" Adele spoke suddenly, almost startling the males. She took out a letter and handed it to Athos for examination. "Go on, read it."

Athos read the contents of the letter in silence, Aramis peering over his shoulder. "What is this? This letter is addressed to the Cardinal."

"I dare say he is planning something dubious at best." Aramis looked up at her words. Adele smiled at the man.

"Who might you be, Mademoiselle?" Aramis looked at her with curiosity. "It seems both my friends have the advantage of knowing you when I do not."

"Certainly not," Adele protested, seeming horrified for unknown reasons. "I assure you knowing me takes a lot more time than that which I've spent with them. Their advantage however is that they know my name. To even things up I'm obliged to tell you I am called Adele."

The letter contained a few incriminating things that could very well discredit Cardinal Richelieu. It was addressed to a Spanish Marquis and it described with a bit too much detail some state affairs. Adele had come by it quite accidentally. It had been delivered amongst her letters a few weeks ago. She'd pondered the situation and decided to seek the help Athos had been quick to assure she would be given. If the interests of France were at stake, she was determined to eliminate the threat by any means necessary. And that meant facing Athos once again, for the greater good.

"This is quite old," the one and only Athos directed towards her, holding the piece of paper up. "Why bring it now?"

"For reasons that are my own." Adele flashed him a displeased look. "There you go again with the accusations. Dare I say chivalry is all but gone?"

"Don't take it to heart," Porthos said, waving his hand. "Athos is like that with everyone." The explanation received a raised eyebrow from Adele and a disapproving look from Aramis.

"I don't suppose I can hold it against him then," Adele replied in a sly manner. Of course she would hold it against him. The man was insulting her. "Well, can I count on your help?" This she had asked Athos, her brown eyes searching his face intently.

"What exactly do you want us to do?" The Cardinal was an influential fellow, and rich too. He would not be easy to catch and even more difficult to blame for anything. In fact, the whole incident might end up forgotten if that man had his way.

Pondering his question, Adele pursed her lips. "Do you think you may find a way to stop the correspondence?"

"And foil the Cardinal's plans?" Porthos exclaimed. His face split in a grin. "My Lady, you shall learn one thing of us Musketeers, we never overlook a chance of thwarting the man."

Inclining her head, Adele tried to swallow her laughter. "Oh, Monsieur, then I owe it to you to give as many opportunities as possible."

"How exactly do you plan to achieve that?" Athos eyed the woman with blatant distrust. It wasn't unheard of for court ladies to set up and bring apart conspiracies. But even they did so from the relative safety of their own home. And rarely did they personally meet with the Musketeers. If they did meet, plots and schemes were rarely the themes of such rendezvous.

"I have my ways," Adele assured the man. "I shall try do my very best to point you in the direction of new evidence." Athos seemed to want to say something. She held up her hand. "One more matter to settle, do not try to contact me."

"Why ever not?!" Porthos looked alarmed."Little bird, how are we to tell you of our progress then?"

"Because, my good fellow, this bird will have her wings clipped should she be caught." They would perhaps think her involved with someone. It was of no consequence, of course, for she didn't plan to ever see them after her mission was accomplished. She planned to leave Paris altogether in fact. "Our mutual friend will be more than happy to facilitate an exchange of letters though."

Anne Marie d'Aligre had agreed to no such thing. Adele, however, was certain she could be prevailed upon. She could simply tell her she was taken with one of the King's Musketeers and be done with that. She would not be believed at first, certainly, however, Anne Marie would remember her friend was young and impressionable and would, in the end, play the messenger. And besides Adele doubted her friend would let such an occasion escape; it was not every day she showed interest in any man.

As he was wont to do, Porthos completely missed the point. "I look forwards to receiving word from you, my dear."

"Charming," Adele muttered under her breath. "I do believe it would make for a problematic situation, my friend."

"Quite so," Athos agreed. "Since you've already made my acquaintance in the presence of our friend, you may address the letters to me."

Intently watching the unfolding scene, Aramis silently took note of Adele's every gesture. She was young and delicate in body, but not feeble of spirit. Just the way she matched his friend for his every insult could prove that much. That hadn't been the first thing he noticed about her though. When they'd entered upon the summon of de Tréville, he had been hit by the image of a beautiful woman. She was exactly how he'd imaged a nymph to be. Slim and petite, thoroughly charming with those warm eyes and full lips.

Then she'd laughed, her whole face transforming with it. Some people laughed with only their mouths. The same could not be said for her. Yes, those lips curved, and the giggles flowed. But far more interesting were her eyes. They too lit with amusement. One could not doubt she was being genuine in her joy.

Her attention had shifted to him after, and for a moment, Aramis had been frozen in his spot as she'd asked for his name. Diverted by de Tréville, her eyes left him when he ended his bow. Strangely, he had felt bereft. It had been pleasant, for whatever reason, to hold her interest.

Thankfully, her distraction proved to be a good opportunity for him. Aramis could study her to his heart's content. He could tell, for example, that she was hurt by Athos and his cold manner. Also, she found a great deal of amusement in her interactions with Porthos. To him she felt attracted. Undeniably, she had been subtle, but Aramis could tell. He had to give her credit though, for she acted little on what she felt. Aside from such hints she gave nothing away. Mystery had always appealed to him, so Aramis continued to keep his eyes on her, if only to catch the next piece of the puzzle.

"Then that settles it." The woman glanced towards the window, at the sun. In the distance the cathedral bells tolled. "I must be on my way, messieurs. Many thanks for agreeing to aid me."

Whoever this woman was, Aramis wanted to know. Clearly she belonged to the noble class. Her fine clothing and pleasant speech gave that away. However she had only given them part of her name. That, and she was definitely not telling them the entire plan. Secrets surrounded her. Could she be trusted? Maybe not. But Aramis could not help feeling drawn to her. Determination coursed through him. He would find out her identity.

De Tréville entered exactly on time. "Allow me the pleasure of escorting you to your carriage, Mademoiselle." He offered her his arm.

Setting her hand in the crook of his arm, Adele gave one last look to the other men and inclined her head towards them. "Thank you for being so kind, Monsieur," she then spoke to Tréville. Letting his lead her out, she had only a moment to catch the intense look levelled at her by Aramis. Flushing, she whipped her head around, facing straight ahead. No lingering would do her good, she reminded herself. Oh, but that stare had been nothing short of impertinent. Men ought not to watch women thus. Adele shivered.

The carriage waited exactly where she'd left it. De Tréville helped her inside, gently closing the door. He bowed to the lady one last time before witnessing her departure. Her father had been the Duke of Sully, as he well remembered. It was strange to see her in the capital, for the sole reason that her parent had lost his office not too long ago. Still, one supposed that it oughtn't to keep a young lady from enjoying all that Paris had to offer. How his Musketeers had come upon her, the man could only guess, and even that poorly so.

In the yard the Inseparables spoke in hushed tones. Upon further inspection one would notice the quizzical expression upon the face of Porthos. It would then be with ease that anyone could figure only Aramis and Athos were talking, their friend, as always, slowly muddling his way through their words.

"Who is she, Athos?" Aramis questioned. His friend had met her first; it stood to reason he would know her true identity.

"Why such interest, my friend?" Athos mocked. To his mind it could do no good to show much interest to women, especially those of the attractive variety. "We might never hear from her again."

"Nevertheless, I would like to know who it is we are dealing with." Other, more personal, reasons were spoken in his mind only.

"Very well then! She is the friend of Porthos' paramour," Athos supplied. "I know no more than that, but maybe you can as our friend here."

Porthos gave them a blank look. "She is Adele," he replied with certainty, much to Aramis' exasperation. "She introduced herself to you as well."

Sarcastically smiling at Porthos, Aramis shook his head. Porthos had not understood his question, obviously. "Do you know her title?"

"Her title?" The query seemed to throw Porthos off even more. He though it over for a moment. "I could ask Anne," he said in the end. For really, he knew not what else to do. Adele had given no title and Anne hadn't either.

Satisfied with that, Aramis nodded his head. Naturally, she hadn't given them her title; she couldn't have with the way they met. Her friend was on intimate terms with Porthos, and she had to follow suit to not attract attention upon the group.

True to his words, days later, Porthos arrived with news. One could only suppose his lady was much like him in mind, for she'd not thought a moment to protect her supposed friend's name and position. But such were the relationships at court. No one could be trusted, and attempting to do so had a high price.

Curios too, Athos handed Porthos a cup of wine. "What have you found?" he asked, before Aramis, in a strange turn of events.

"A great deal of things," he responded, pride shining in his eyes. Porthos took a long gulp out of his cup. "Her name is indeed, Adele, for one thing. She is the last child of the Duke of Sully, a Vicomtesse in her own right, for another." He stopped then to drink once again.

"Hasn't her father left office not too long ago?" Aramis ventured. He remembered vaguely hearing such rumours.

"Indeed!" Porthos exclaimed. "But by far the most interesting is the reason for which she has left her stately home and came to Paris."

"Do tell," Athos encouraged. It was rather intriguing a thing. The daughter of a Duke whose office had been taken from him was not something one happened upon every day.

"According to Anne, it was the King himself who sent for her." When his friends failed to offer any reaction, Porthos sighed.

Only a few could be the possibilities, Aramis decided. Either, this woman had come to court to increase the number of potential suitors, or she had been brought as mistress to the king. She didn't look like a woman aware of her seductive skills, yet that, by no means, meant she did not know how to use them. An innocent face was a dangerous weapon when used accordingly. Yet she moved much like a girl would, cautious and shy. It baffled him that he could not read her better.

Frustrated, the young man released a heavy sign. "We should do our best to smooth over the outcome of the Cardinal's actions." That much they could do according to the agreement. "Do keep an eye on our little lady, though." Laughing eyes or not, were she the king's mistress, keeping company with her would be very dangerous business.

A fortnight would pass still until any more answers would be given to sate his curiosity. In that time, Aramis used the acquaintances he already had to come up with more information. It seemed that little was known of this particular lady. She had been raised in the countryside, the youngest child of her parents'. There was some relation between her and the King; they were distant cousins. She was held in esteem by the King, according to his sources, and the Queen looked upon her with worry.

Catching the very woman in the busy Parisian streets late one night had to have been a gift from God. "My lady," he said, catching her by the arm just as she was climbing down the theatre's last step. Her sharp intake of breath was followed by a sound of distress.

Swatting at the hand that had grabbed her, Adele barely had tome to look at the man's face. Only, in the end, she had to for his grip would not let up. To her surprise she wasn't being aggressed, or in danger. "Monsieur Aramis," she said.

"Mademoiselle," he returned, releasing her. Had he not been paying attention, he would have missed her completely. Gone were her silken dress and fine jewellery. Instead she wore a decent brocade calico dress. Aramis could not help noticing that she was also alone. "Where is your escort?"

"Good God, Monsieur," Adele allowed herself to utter. She'd come to the theatre with one Charles de Lesseps, who had abandoned the building after merely a short flirtation with some woman. Not that Adele had been bothered; after all, Charles was wont to do exactly that. "I assure you, I am perfectly capable of seeing myself to my destination."

Unwilling to take such risks, Aramis caught her by the arm once more. "Tell me where it is you are heading and I shall escort you."

"I will not convince you otherwise, will I?" Adele knew she wouldn't for determination burned in his eyes. Yet she would hear it from his own lips.

"That you won't," he agreed. Aramis positioned her hand on his arm. "No news of out friend, the Cardinal?"

"He is planning something; that much I can tell." For a brief second, she thought she spotted a familiar face ahead of them. She strained to get a better look, momentarily forgetting about her companion.

It ought to feel less thrilling, Aramis considered, being with her. Despite the rather reasonable conclusion his mind had come upon, the rest of him disagreed. "What are you searching for?"

"The wash-maid!" she suddenly exclaimed. "We have to follow her." Pulling on his arm, she made her way through the masses.

"Would I that I could understand you, Mademoiselle." She had taken him by surprise, but when he regained his composure, Aramis forced her to stop. He pulled her to the nearest building wall and completely disregarded her protests. "I require some answers first." At her vicious glare, he smiled in a placating manner. "She entered a private property. We cannot follow her there."

Glancing towards the structure in question, Adele realised he was correct. Her irritation subsided enough for her to assume her blasé veneer. "I have been observing her for some time, she is a rather strange woman."

"Does she have any connection with that letter?" he prodded, eyes turning to the gate through which the woman had disappeared thoughtfully.

"I couldn't tell." It was entirely a different matter that Adele was pursuing this woman for. "I have to find who owns that residence."

"It would be for naught," Aramis told her gently. "The place is lent to different persons, most of them foreigners." He grinned arrogantly at her surprised look. "I don't suppose you've been here long."

"How fortunate then that I have you," the woman retorted. "Do you also happen to know who the tenant is at this moment."

"No," he responded simply. Even he was not that well informed.

"Pity," Adele said, almost mockingly. "I suppose luck can only do so much for me."

Unaffected, the man leaned in closer. "I could find out, if you want."

"That would be very kind of you." She took a step back. "She must have escaped through another entrance," Adele noted upon returning her attention to the gate that hadn't budged. Not a chance remained of catching her. "You may escort me to the palace if you still wish it."

Falling into step alongside her, Aramis instinctively offered his arm. "You shall write, won't you?"

"When I have news," she countered softly. "I dare say it won't be long now. Monsieur Athos must be getting impatient."

At the mention of his friend, Aramis blinked. "I suppose he is rather so." And distrustful too, as they all were.

Silence fell over them. The night air had cooled the streets. For that Adele was grateful. At the very least the stench was not so strong as it was when the sun shone. The streets were not deserted as she had imagined in her tender years. She had no doubt these people were not of the best quality, yet she would have to act her part. It worried her to see eyes watching her as if she were a slab of meat at the market. Unknowingly she burrowed deeper into her companion's side as a low whistle sounded from behind them. The feeling of another body so close to hers made the woman jolt.

"Forgive me," she instantly apologised, rearranging herself at a proper distance from him.

"Ignore them," Aramis advised sagely. "They can do nor more than stare."

"That's quite enough," Adele whispered. "I wish they wouldn't."

"Alas, you'll have to suffer their eyes upon you." His answer was kind, in a way only a man could give.

To be truthful, he wasn't all that pleased with the ruffians. No matter her gown, the woman at his side was a noble lady. No so much for her birth, but for the way she acted. Aramis wondered again what her business could possibly be in the capital. She did not belong in this place. She should have stayed in the countryside where other could look after her wellbeing and care for her. Better yet, she should have been married by now. A husband to look after her was just what she needed. Surreptitiously, he took a look at her.

Calm and composed, she had, no doubt, a great love for peace. A woman like her would know little of the crude world, thus someone else was needed to care for her. Perhaps one of her fellow courtiers would do just so. Oddly though, the thought did not sit particularly well with Aramis. He had seen women of similar qualities be destroyed in such a union. The innocent rarely remained so in their world.

Asking her why she had come to Paris would be an indiscretion. Aramis wished he were not quite so well-versed in courtly games. Bluntness had never suited him too well, even before becoming a Musketeer. He wasn't exactly sure how to deal with a woman like her, who seemed to not want of him or his friends anything but their aid. Other would have asked for more; other would have asked for a lover as well as help. They would have wanted support and cooperation from them in whatever scheme they planned. She seemed innocent of such thoughts.

Later, after Adele had snuck into her rooms, she sat on her bed, deep in thought. If only she could find a quick solution to all this and be on her way home. If only her dear Louis would take it upon himself to solve his own marriage. But a King would always be that and expect other to do it all for him, she supposed, not without a hint of bitterness. "Dear God, I've landed myself into all sorts of trouble, have I not?"

"One might suppose so," a familiar voice drawled from the direction of the a hanged painting.

"Your Majesty," Adele rose from the bed and fell into a curtsy. It seemed a silly thing to do, having changed into a sleeping gown. She held back her displeasure at being visited at such a late hour. "How may I be of assistance?"

Dark eyes had caught very well the appearance of the King. He too had come prepared for bed. Adele's stomach churned. Louis held no interest in her, she had often told herself. Were she to be proven wrong, the young woman would grieve. Perhaps her face had gone pale or her hands started trembling, because the King made a short sound of annoyance.

"Do not worry, nobody has seen me coming here." Strangely enough, he seemed confident in those words. It was nothing short of worrying.

"Your Majesty," she parroted her earlier line. He must have arrived via the secret passages that were all over the palace. Adele knew that making a commotion would serve for naught.

"You've yet to tell me anything about the Queen," he murmured, closing in on her. Louis guided her back down. "Tell me your news."

Relief washed over Adele. "There have been letters," she said. And it was the truth. "Most are from the Queen's brother." That ought to calm the King.

"Is there nothing else?" Had he been expecting proof of the Queen's infidelity, he was sorely disappointed.

"No, nothing." Placing a hand on the man's shoulder Adele sighed. "I shall find whatever I can, yet I don't believe her to be a faithless woman."

Bitter laughter passed the man's lips. "You assume that because you would never do such a thing, all others would not too."

"Of course not," was the mild reproach. "I am not such a child that I am completely blind to the world around me. Would I that I could speak freely, Your Majesty."

"I am not a King now," he commented by way of easing her mind. "Speak as you will."

"I find it is a matter of choice. As humans it is our choices that make us who we are. One may elect to do right, as well as they could do the exact opposite." Adele smoothed her hands over the coverlet as she spoke. "But personally I do strive to do right by other."

"Whatever for?" he questioned. "They would not do the same for you."

"I was told for most of my life that I must act so that when I see my face reflected back to me I am not ashamed. I took it to heart." It was not so much pride that compelled her, as honour. For what was a person without honour?

Five years her senior and much a child at heart was this King. Adele felt an almost maternal fondness for the man. She could never quite see him as a man. Even at thirteen, when they'd properly met, she had seen him as a boy. That would not change soon, she though. A thin smile spread on her lips. She would have sought to make him more mature had she any say. After all, a child could not rule. He was left weak, allowing the Cardinal and other to interfere too much. Their dear Queen should have noted as much and steered him in the right direction. Once more Adele was proven that she would have no peace in the capital.

Relying on her would not benefit the King. Adele might have not had a vast experience, but she did not lack wit, or eyes, or ears. It stood to reason that depending too much on someone gave that person power. And power corrupted like nothing else. Especially the foolish were drawn to it like the moth to a flame. Louis, in trust her so, was taking a risk; a rather great risk. Were she so inclined, Adele supposed she could twist whatever power he had out of his hands. Many other would have done so. Again she was brought back to her observation that a boy stood before her. Lost and confused, she imagined, Louis had though to call her in to solve his problems.

Poor boy. Adele could only hope that he would take his responsibility and the Queen would share his burden. And it had to happen soon, or the rift that had started forming between the two would not be mended. While it was true that no proof had reached her yet, Adele was not without suspicions. Consumed schemers waited about every corner. One trap could utterly destroy a person, so effective it usually was. Despite the Queen's dislike for her, she would not have wished so upon the wife of Louis. Of course, one had to consider the scandal that could be born. When dealing with royalty nothing ever lacked complications.

Queen Anne was, undoubtedly, a woman of character. She just had to watch for the steps of her companions. The games played at court were very often less amusement and more danger. One had to be born with a matching disposition and desire to play. If not, it was best to keep out. Adele only hoped that in her case disposition would be enough to get her through. If not, she dared not think of the consequences. Her mother would have known what advice to give her, but she was not here and asking for such words in a letter was a risk she'd not be willing to take. Silently the woman implored God for his help.

* * *

**_A/N: Yes, I have finally managed to write another chapter. I hope you find it entertaining. As you can see the players are moving on out little board and each and every one of them had their own interests to look after. I do love a complicated story, I have to say. And of course I love Dumas. Anyway, once again, enjoy and feel free to share your thoughts._**


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